


Reunion

by The13thBlackCat



Series: Songbird [6]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Feels, Feels, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 09:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6112686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The13thBlackCat/pseuds/The13thBlackCat





	Reunion

   He had been angry, at first.

   No, that was understating it; he had been _furious_ , and hurt, and _terrified._ He knew why Sparrow had done what he'd done, but that didn't make it easier; if anything, it made it _worse._ He'd sided with him when they'd left Selene and Anders, knowing it was safest that they split up. Selene had argued, of course—stubborn at first, then loud and angry, then finally quiet, but displeased. She'd had tears in her eyes when they'd left them behind, but she hadn't cried then, and mustered up as much dignity as she could when the Hawkes said their good byes. She was a Hawke too, after all, as much as her brother, and she knew how to do the hard thing for the sake of their family.

   Fenris had never thought Sparrow would try to do the same thing to him.

   Maybe it was because he hadn't said anything to hint at it in the weeks after they'd left Selene and Anders. Or maybe it was because, while he'd never said it— _I can't lose you too_ —aloud, he'd spent every chance he could touching Fenris, holding him, and reminding himself he was still there, and that said plenty. Maybe he'd just thought Sparrow should know him better.

   In hindsight, _he_ was the one who should have known better: Sparrow was willing to do anything for the people he loved, and after losing most of his family, he'd only become more adamant about that. After he'd pulled away from his own sister to keep her safe, it was only a matter of time before he did the same to Fenris. Likely, the only reason he hadn’t left Fenris with Selene and Anders was because he knew he couldn’t win that argument.

   And when he finally brought it up one night, Fenris almost hadn't believed what he was hearing.

   Leaving Sparrow alone was simply unthinkable. He'd already long since told himself he would never leave Sparrow again, for any reason, and Sparrow knew he could take care of himself. Didn’t he?

   Most importantly, Sparrow needed someone to take care of _him_ , because he was absolute shit at doing that himself.

   At first, they'd argued about it; Fenris was not Selene, and he was _not_ going to relent and allow Sparrow to disappear without him. Eventually, he'd given up, and Fenris thought that was the end of it. Even Sparrow had to have an end to his stubbornness, eventually, and he was so worn down as it was that he must have been near it. He seemed so _tired,_ ever since they’d left Selene _._

   So when he'd woken up the next morning, alone, with most of their supplies and only a note to explain that Sparrow had gone in the night, yes: he'd been angry. But mostly, he’d been scared. Sparrow was somewhere, _without him_ , and _anything_ could happen. And if something did, Fenris might never know; it would be like Sparrow just vanished one night, and never returned. That thought was worse than anything.

   The sole comfort had been that Maric had left with him, and Fenris didn't doubt for a second that Sparrow had _tried_ to leave him behind with Fenris, because he'd tried to with Selene. The mabari was even more stubborn than his master, however, and smart enough to realize Sparrow needed him more than anyone else; so someone was taking care of that idiot, and it was someone he couldn’t get rid of. Good.

   Varric had kept in touch with him, somehow. Fenris wasn't sure _how_ the dwarf managed it, but he supposed he wasn't particularly good at blending in unless he tried, so it couldn't be too hard to track him down. He didn't have much to say about Sparrow—he'd outright told Fenris that he didn't know a lot about where the human was, most of the time—but what little information he'd been able to pass on about him helped. He was safe, more or less, and alive, and sometimes, Varric even knew where he was—or had been. Even though Fenris knew it was pointless, he always ended up following those little leads, though he knew very well that Sparrow had probably only let Varric know where he’d been long after he'd left.

   Selene and Anders were staying in Amaranthine, with Anders' commander, and for a time Fenris had thought about going there. The thought of facing Selene without her brother, though, he couldn't bear; so he wandered instead, tracking down slavers while he waited for Varric's next bit of information on where Sparrow had gone, and eventually, the anger had faded. Now, he was mostly hurt, and scared. He knew Sparrow had only left him to keep him safe, but that didn't help.

   He was alone now, except for Maric, and Sparrow didn't do well on his own.

   When Varric first wrote to him from Skyhold, Fenris had almost been certain he was misreading the letter. After what felt like _forever,_ he finally had the information he'd wanted for so long.

 

_He's in Skyhold, and I' m keeping him here as long as I can. You should hurry. He needs you._

 

* * *

 

    Skyhold wasn't difficult to find: the Inquisition had moved there after Haven was destroyed, and that attracted the attention of much of Thedas—Fenris was hardly the only person who wanted to go there. Unlike most travelers, he wasn’t there for the Inquisition, though, or particularly interested in it right now. Something more important waited in Skyhold.

   He'd kept to himself for the most part—he didn't want the attention his appearance usually drew, especially now—but someone must have seen him at the gates and mentioned some distinguishing feature of his. The scars, probably. Or, for all he knew, Varric had asked someone to keep an eye out for him; that seemed likely, from the dwarf. In any case, he'd barely made it through the gate before he saw the man he'd come all this way to find: breathing hard, stiff, and wide-eyed, like he'd run across Skyhold to get there and stopped short. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, but he was still, unmistakably, the same man: his Hawke. His Sparrow.

   "Fenris." His voice was tight, choked with emotion in a way Fenris had only heard a few times before. He wasn't sure when they'd gotten so close, but Sparrow's hands came up to cup his face, trembling as he rubbed his thumbs across Fenris' eyebrows and cheekbones and lips like he couldn't believe he was _real_. Their foreheads touched, and Fenris reached up to touch Sparrow's cheek softly—then to slide his hand into his hair—he'd let it grow out in the time they'd been apart—and take hold of a handful, pulling him closer.

   "Sparrow," he whispered in response. The elf swallowed around the lump in his throat, then added, hoarse and harsh, "Don't you ever, _ever_ leave me again."

   To his relief, Sparrow responded with a short, sharp little laugh, choked and too tight for him but reminiscent of how it _should_ sound: it was like coming home. He cupped his hands around the back of Fenris' head, rubbing his nose against the elf's and letting out a harsh breath.

   " _Never_ ," was all he said, and with that, Fenris could forgive him. Mostly. He still wasn't pleased, but he understood, and it didn't matter anymore. What mattered was that Sparrow was here, now, and he was safe, and he was never leaving again. He pulled Sparrow into a fierce, short kiss, exhaling sharply against his lips when he pulled back.

   Sparrow was grinning by then, running his fingers through Fenris' hair. He still looked tired—physically—but the light was back in his eyes. "You grew your hair out," he said, his voice soft. Fenris' ears flicked, and he broke into a little smile at the observation, letting his fingers brush down the side of Sparrow's face to his jaw. He actually had a beard now rather than just stubble, and Fenris chuckled softly.

   "So did you."

   Sparrow laughed again—lighter, this time—and pulled away a little to self-consciously rub his cheek with a sheepish grin. "Yeah, a bit," he admitted. "I guess I have to shave now."

   Fenris laughed shortly at that before kissing him again and sliding his arms around him. For a moment, he just held Sparrow as tightly as he could, his face buried against him. He was safe, now. How much trouble could this idiot get into with him here, after all?

   He finally looked up when he heard a bark he recognized, to see Maric bounding up to them, his ears perked and his stubby tail wagging madly. Fenris pulled away from Sparrow to kneel down to greet the mabari, only to be bowled over entirely when the dog crashed into him, pinning him to the ground and covering his face in slobbery kisses. Sparrow gasped Maric's name—laughing, trying to sound scolding but failing entirely—before Fenris shoved the dog back, holding him at arm's-length. Before Maric could renew his assault, someone spoke up, distracting him:

   "Well, I'll assume that's the elf under our furry friend. I was beginning to think you'd never gotten my letter."

   " _Your_ letter?" Sparrow turned away, and Fenris shoved Maric off him to see that he'd turned towards Varric, standing with his arms crossed and a smug little smile he wasn't hiding very well. " _You_ told Fenris I was here?"

   Varric gestured dramatically. "Of course I did! You think I'm going to risk life and limb to _not_ tell him where you are? I'm not as crazy as _you_. Besides, if he ever found out I told Selene but not _him..._ "

   "Selene's coming?" Sparrow's voice had gone soft, but he broke into a grin before Varric could even answer.

   "Blondie too, I suppose, unless she's left him behind in Amaranthine. I doubt that, though."

   Sparrow didn't answer, darting across the space between them to sweep Varric up into a hug, despite the dwarf's protests. Maric lunged off Fenris to join his master, barking and bounding around them, and Fenris broke into a little laugh from his spot on the ground.

   One way or another, it looked like everything was going to be okay.

 

* * *

 

    Sparrow didn’t end up shaving, after all.

   He thought about it—had been for a bit, actually, before Fenris even showed up and he made the joke about it—but Fenris seemed to find some amusement in petting his face, so Sparrow let him enjoy it a while longer, at least until the novelty wore off. Besides, they were in the mountains. It was _cold,_ sometimes.

   The elf wasn’t pleased with him, he knew that, but he’d expected it. He was just happy that he didn’t hate him, and he seemed to be willing to ignore Sparrow’s leaving, except for an uncanny habit of following him wherever he went. If Sparrow hadn’t been missing him so badly, he might have even minded.

   Almost a week after Fenris had arrived in Skyhold, they were on the battlements, quietly discussing what they’d been up to during their separation and watching people stream into the fortress. It would die down, eventually, but right now Skyhold was _everyone’s_ destination—particularly after the Inquisition’s miraculous survival. Some saw it as proof of the Maker’s favor, some just realized it meant the Inquisition was too stubborn to ignore, and everyone realized it was important.

   Sparrow tipped his head to the side, bumping it against Fenris’ gently and squeezing his hand lightly. He’d paused for breath for a moment, but before he could continue his story, they were interrupted by a woman politely clearing her throat.

   Sparrow looked up in surprise, blinking at the dark-skinned human woman who had come up next to them. He recognized her, vaguely—she was a friend of Varric’s, as he understood it—but they hadn’t spoken. She nodded lightly, then said:

   “Sorry about the interruption, ser, but Varric said it was important.” She tipped her head towards the courtyard behind them, continuing, “He said you have a visitor, and it’s probably best if you don’t take too long.”

   Sparrow frowned, cocking his head to look at Fenris questioningly—the elf gave a minute, puzzled little shrug. The woman gave a little nod, then turned to leave, her message delivered; Sparrow followed her off the battlements, his chest tight as Fenris followed him, with Maric padding behind.

 _Could it—?_ He cut the thought off before he could finish it, afraid to get his hopes up. Fenris must have sensed his agitation, because he squeezed his hand gently as they made their way towards Skyhold’s courtyard. They’d barely started down the stairs before Sparrow heard a voice that made him freeze, his heart clenching.

   “—ders, I am _fine._ I’m not made of glass!”

   “For the last time, woman, I’m a _healer_ , stop trying to tell me how to do my job. This will just take a second.”

   “It can _wait_ , Anders, and _besides_ your _job_ is to _fight darkspawn,_ not bother me. Now let me go!”

   “ _Selene—_ “

   Before Anders could say anything else, Sparrow pulled away from Fenris and hurried down the stairs as fast as he could without tripping. Selene had pulled away from Anders to start up them, and Sparrow stopped himself short just before they crashed into each other, a gasp catching in his sister’s throat as she caught herself against his chest.

   She looked…so much different than he’d expected. She’d let her hair grow out to her shoulders, longer than he’d seen it in years—not since she’d first left for Kirkwall—and she was actually in a _dress_ for once. She was also very, _very_ pregnant.

   That part shouldn’t have been a surprise—he _knew_ she’d been pregnant, which was a large part of why he’d decided to leave, because he wasn’t going to risk his sister’s life _and_ his niece or nephew’s. But she’d still looked like herself, then—she’d only just found out, after all—and now, seeing her like this, finally drove the point home, harder than he’d expected.

   His breath hitched hard and his vision went blurry and he pulled Selene into his arms before she could say anything. She made a choked noise against him and closed her hands tightly in his shirt, before gasping, “ _N-no,_ dammit, d-don’t you start crying. If you start crying, I’m going to, because I’m crying at e- _everything_ now!”

   Sparrow barked out a short, strangled laugh at that. “I’m not,” he whispered, his voice tight. “Something in my eye.”

   “It had b- _better_ be,” she answered, before pushing him back to look at him. “M-Maker, you _idiot._ Are you okay? If you’re not, I _swear_ —“

   Sparrow laughed again, reaching up to brush her hair back. He’d forgotten how much she looked like Bethany like this, or Mother. The thought made his chest ache, and he thought for a moment, _If Mother could see you like this…_

   He cut the thought off before it could finish, answering, “I’m fine, Selene.” He broke into a grin, then cupped his hands around her face, squishing her cheeks gently. “Look at you! Someone might mistake you for a woman now!”

   “Oh, hush, you ass.” She pushed him back with a huff, then sighed, folding her arms across her stomach. “Dresses are easier. Leave me alone.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, looking at him for a moment in silence. Finally, she reached out to touch his cheek lightly, frowning.

   “What?”

   Selene was quiet for a second, then she said, her voice soft, “You need to shave.” She tried to make a joke of it, but it came out a little wrong, a little tight. Sparrow huffed, running a hand through his hair.

   “I don’t think I look that bad,” he muttered, expecting her to say something rude in response. Instead, she said simply:

   “You look like Father.”

   Sparrow blinked at her, then his expression softened a little. Smiling softly, he answered, “And _you_ bear an uncanny resemblance to Mother. She’d be thrilled, I’m sure.”

   Selene moaned at that. “Maker, I do, don’t I?” She plucked at her skirt irritably. “Maker’s balls. We’re turning into our parents.”

   Sparrow broke into a little laugh at that, but before he could answer, Anders sighed heavily behind her, dusting his robes off. “Well, from what I recall of your mother, that might be an improvement. I don’t know about your father, but—“

   “We take after him,” Selene answered cheerfully, looking back at him. Anders groaned.

   “Andraste preserve us, then. Out of the way, woman, let me make sure he’s not dying.”

   Sparrow blinked a few times at that, but before he could start protesting, Selene stepped aside and Anders had taken her place, his hands glowing with blue light as he brushed them over Sparrow.

   “Wha— I— _Anders!”_

   “Well, no injuries at least, that’s good,” Anders muttered to himself, ignoring Sparrow’s protests. He narrowed his eyes at him, pursing his lips before adding, “You could use more sleep, though.” Before Sparrow could answer, he caught hold of his chin, jerking his head to the side. “Let me see.”

   “Anders it’s not like it got any _worse—_ “

   “Be quiet, Sparrow. You’re as bad as your sister, I swear.”

   Almost on cue, Selene chirped, “ _Fenris!_ ” Sparrow cocked his head a little, ignoring Anders’ huff of protest as he examined the scar on the side of his face, and could just make out Selene hugging Fenris out of the corner of his eye. There was movement on the elf’s other side and a bark, and she gasped, “Oh, _Maric!_ Hello boy, I’ve missed you so much! Oh, I’d bend down if I could, I’m sorry…oh, no, no, easy. There we go. Hello, boy.”

   “The mage is still alive, I see,” Fenris observed wryly, though without the usual vague malice he’d had in Kirkwall. Anders let Sparrow go at that, huffing irritably, and Sparrow stepped back, retreating towards his sister before the mage could grab him again. Maric was on his hind legs, tail wagging, with Selene holding his forepaws and rubbing her nose against his as she swayed the mabari back-and-forth.

   “Maker, are we still doing that?” Fenris chuckled quietly, and he snapped, “ _What?_ It’s not funny!”

   “Ignore him, he’s had a bad trip,” Selene said as she and Maric both looked up. “Mountains make him angry.”

   “No, woman, _you_ do,” Anders answered in a mutter. He sighed. To Sparrow, he said in a low voice, “Don’t ever take a pregnant woman across Ferelden if you get the chance. You’ll never hear the end of it.”

   Selene made an irritated noise, but didn’t answer. Instead, she let go of Maric’s paws and patted his head before turning on Sparrow, her hands going to her hips. “Varric’s supposed to be here, isn’t he? Andraste’s tits, Sparrow, where are you keeping him, already?”

   Sparrow laughed softly, moving to put an arm around Selene’s shoulders. He pulled her to his side in a brief hug, then led her up the stairs, towards the great hall.


End file.
